Sailing in the Caribbean we meet a lot of people. Most of them are like us, seniors in 'good shape for the age' we carry on our backs. Pretending to do jobs on the boat, little jobs to kill the day that goes by to fast anyway.
When the sun releases it's hot grip, sometime in the late afternoon, it is time for a walk, final destination the ice cream parlor or two happy hour drinks in a bar.
Now about the walk. With very few exceptions mature couples hold hands while walking.
When I was a young girl, I was touched by that and I wished it would be happening to me some day. The romantic idea that somebody still loves you after many shared years.
The truth is, holding hands is a sign of depending on somebody and also the fear of loosing him or her. The sign of time, the storms and the resignations we go through many years of bonding.
We are in Maine now taking a break from the hot sun. We are walking the streets of Bethel. It is after ski hours, people are visiting the shops, checking out the menus posted on the doors of the restaurants. Nobody is holding hands. Are people of New England less carrying, more independent? Suddenly I get an urge. I turn to Polde: "Hold my hand". "Oh, no", he replies, "my hands are cold. I would rather keep them in my pockets".
Monday, March 1, 2010
Holding hands
Sailing in the Caribbean we meet a lot of people. Most of them are like us, seniors in 'good shape for the age' we carry on our backs. Pretending to do jobs on the boat, little jobs to kill the day that goes by to fast anyway.
When the sun releases it's hot grip, sometime in the late afternoon, it is time for a walk, final destination the ice cream parlor or two happy hour drinks in a bar.
Now about the walk. With very few exceptions mature couples hold hands while walking.
When I was a young girl, I was touched by that and I wished it would be happening to me some day. The romantic idea that somebody still loves you after many shared years.
The truth is, holding hands is a sign of depending on somebody and also the fear of loosing him or her. The sign of time, the storms and the resignations we go through many years of bonding.
We are in Maine now taking a break from the hot sun. We are walking the streets of Bethel. It is after ski hours, people are visiting the shops, checking out the menus posted on the doors of the restaurants. Nobody is holding hands. Are people of New England less carrying, more independent? Suddenly I get an urge. I turn to Polde: "Hold my hand". "Oh, no", he replies, "my hands are cold. I would rather keep them in my pockets".
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